


There You Are

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Being Lost, Best Friends, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones, Caring Nori, Feels and Tragedy, Gen, Graphic Description, Head Injury, Loss of Limbs, Major Character Injury, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Search and Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori wakes in a medical tent after the Battle of the Five Armies. He won't stay there for long; he has two friends to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There You Are

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning: Graphic descriptions of gore and blood! ******  
> Just in case anyone missed/underestimated the tags!

_“Whatever happens, we stick together.”_

_“Yeh.”_

_“Aye.”_

 

\--

 

_“Nori! Oh, Mahal, Nori!”_

_“No!”_

 

\--

 

_“Please, Nor’, ye promised ye’d stick with us! Don't leave now...”_

_“Bofur, watch out for that—!”_

_“Aggh!”_

 

 

\--

 

Nori’s eyes slowly opened and focused on the ceiling of a tent. Immediately his brows knit in confusion. He didn't know where he was supposed to be, but he was fairly certain it wasn't here in this tent. Despite his best efforts, however, he was utterly unable to move his limbs. He tried to speak instead.

“Thirs-sty...” he croaked out.

A voice startled him. “Nori! Oh, my dear brother!” Nori felt his hand being pressed against a tear-streaked cheek and force his head to turn. He released a breath of relief as soon as he saw Dori, alive and well.

"Thirsty," Nori whispered again, unable to form any other word yet.

“Of course, of course,” Dori agreed hastily, seizing up a canteen and popping off the lid. He gave a very gentle tug on Nori's loose, unbraided beard and Nori obediently opened his mouth for the water.

As soon as he remembered other words in his vocabulary, Nori asked hoarsely, “Where's Ori?”

Dori's smile faded into an anxious gnawing of his lower lip. “In another medical tent.”

Nori's eyes widened, but Dori explained quickly, “He only broke a leg. Óin is making him a splint right now. I barely managed to convince him to be treated; he was worried sick about you. We...we thought...” Dori broke off abruptly, wiping a hand over his face, leaving a smear of pale skin that stood out among the dust on the rest of him. Nori, in fact, had never seen his brother so filthy. Dust and ash mingled on his skin, giving him a tan that rivaled the one Nori had gained from all his traveling. On top of that, however, black and red rivulet stains of Orcish and Dwarven blood (some of the Dwarven most likely his own) were scrawled across his face like the dried ink of a messy collage of tattoos.

Tattoos...that nagged at Nori, telling him that he was forgetting something, some _one_ important...

“Dwalin! And Bofur!” Nori yelped in alarm, bolting upright and immediately crying out in pain as his ribcages convulsed.

“Be still!” Dori commanded, pushing Nori back down on the cot.

“B-But I was supposed to stay with them,” Nori gasped, clutching at his brother's clothing. “I was supposed to protect them!”

“Don’t worry—” Dori tried to say.

“Have you found them? Are they safe?” Nori demanded.

Dori paused for such a long moment that Nori was about to grab him by the collar and shake the answer out of him. At last Dori sighed quietly. “We're doing everything we can, Nori, I promise.”

Nori felt his heart seize. Closing his eyes against an overwhelming sense of dread, he panted out, not even caring that Dori could hear, “Mahal, no. Please, no. Spare them. If you spare _anyone_ , let it be them. They're my best friends. Please don't take them. Please don't take them.” He murmured these words so many times that he found himself dreaming them also, hazily echoing in his mind amidst blurry flashes of mangled bodies, lifeless eyes, and ownerless hats and axes.

When Nori jerked awake again, he found he had cold tears streaming into his beard. “Spare them,” he choked again before his throat locked completely.

 

\--

 

The next day Nori wobbled to his feet. “I have to help look,” he announced stiffly as he made sure the bandages around his ribs were snug, “no matter if I find them...in bad shape.”

Dori studied him worriedly but did nothing to impede him.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent, Nori was almost certain he was going to be sick. Limbs. A pile of amputated, infected limbs was growing piece by piece in a bonfire. Nori turned swiftly away and headed for the open field where the Battle had taken place. He joined other searchers, turning over bodies and searching for specific faces. He was comforted by the presence of some like himself, those who had woken in tents and had instantly returned out here to find loved ones.

He found Dwalin first, spotting his tattooed fingers digging into the fur of four wargs, trying futilely to pull the rest of his body out from underneath.

“Dwalin!” Nori cried, swiftly approaching and beginning the task of removing the warg corpses. “Dwalin, you okay?”

“Fine,” Dwalin groaned as the weight came off of him. “Yeh, just fine...ach, I’ve been under these stinkin’ wargs for too long. My right leg’s completely numb from the knee down.”

Nori drew in a sharp breath. “Mate,” he said, his voice shuddering a little. “Your—”

Dwalin’s face hardened as he saw the thinly veiled dismay on Nori’s face. “Tell me,” he growled.

“Your right leg isn’t—attached.”

For a split second Nori saw shock and horror cross Dwalin’s features, but then he fell into his rut of cold lack of emotion. He ground his jaw, ordering in a low voice, “H-help me sit up.” Nori obediently worked his hands beneath Dwalin’s shoulders and pulled him somewhat upright.

Dwalin watched the stems of blood trail down the unfeeling stub for a long time. Nori in turn stared at his face, trying to read him.

“I’m sorry,” Nori eventually mustered, his voice cautious.

“I’ll get over it,” Dwalin said shortly. “Haul me up.” As Nori made a strain against gravity, Dwalin asked, “Have you found—?”

“Not yet,” Nori sighed. “I plan to keep looking after I get you to Óin. Now, c’mon, don’t let me do all the work. You push and I’ll pull, aye?”

“Aye.”

“One. Two. Three!” Dwalin managed to get upright but flailed as he had only one leg to stand on. His shoulder turned and slammed into Nori’s chest, falling back to the ground on top of him. Nori screamed and Dwalin tried to flop off of him, instead only jarring him further.

“What, what is it?!” Dwalin gasped in alarm.

“Aggh, my ribs,” Nori groaned, trying to remember how breathing worked. “Oooohhh, Ma _hal_ , that _hurt_!”

“I’m sorry!” Dwalin cried, his voice tinged with panic. “Here, let me—”

“No, don’t move,” Nori begged, splaying a hand over Dwalin’s dented breastplate to keep him where he was. “Not...not before I catch my breath.”

They lay still for a few minutes, panting. “Okay,” Nori said in a whisper. “Try to get off now.”

Dwalin struggled a bit and Nori pressed his hands on his friend’s shoulder blades, pushing him up. At last Dwalin was able to roll onto his back next to Nori and, exhausted by the effort, they stayed that way for a few more minutes. Then Nori took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up.

“What’re you doing?” Dwalin asked raggedly.

“I’m taking you to Óin, like I said before,” Nori replied, trying to sound calm as he got shakily to his feet.

“But...I can’t walk.”

Nori nodded agreement. “Yeh, I know.” He leaned over Dwalin’s body, holding out a hand. Dwalin stared at him, wondering what the thief planned on doing. Tentatively he took the hand and Nori heaved him up from the ground, placing a hand on the end of Dwalin’s halved limb and using it as leverage to shove him over his shoulder. Dwalin howled in pain, but Nori ignored him, gritting his teeth and staggering toward the huddle of tents. His ribs were on fire by the time he got there, as Dwalin’s heavy boot bumped his side with every step, but as soon as Óin had taken Dwalin into his care, Nori turned around and went back out for Bofur.

“Where could you’ve gotten yourself, Bofur?” Nori muttered. “You wear one of the craziest hats in existence...how easy can it be to miss you?!”

He found out in the next hour as his hunt gave no success. Eventually he sank down, pressing his hands together and then leaning his forehead against them. Broken ribs were very inconvenient when it came to moving quickly among the vast, uneven path that the bodies made.

When he opened his eyes again, Nori caught sight of an Elf splayed grotesquely in blood-fertilized mud. Nori winced and then sat up straighter. Fury mounted into his tense body, making his ribs strain. Beneath the Elf’s thin, pale fingers was the brim of that hat. _Bofur’s_ hat.

Nori rose to his feet and stomped over, shoving the body to the side. Immediately he regretted his rough treatment of the Elf, for right there, having been shielded by the larger creature’s body, was Bofur.

Seizing Bofur and pulling him out of the mud, Nori propped him up against a boulder and lifted his head. Nori swallowed hard as he saw the slick, oozing head wound, probably caused by one of those spiked Orcish clubs, that had undoubtedly downed his friend.

“Bof’, wake up,” Nori pleaded, patting the miner's colorless cheek. “Wake up, you fool, and answer me!” He leaned into Bofur’s face and his breath hitched for a moment when he felt none of Bofur’s.

“You must be kiddin’ with me,” he said slowly, hopefully. “Right? Eh?”

There was silence—dull, motionless, breathless silence.

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t...j-just _stop breathin’_ ,” Nori hissed, his voice starting to grow anxious. “You’re too stubborn for that. Where’s your spirit? You...you...you better tell me you're alright before I take matters into my own hands!” When again he received no reply, Nori let Bofur’s chin drop and wove his hands together. “That’s it!” he hollered, slamming the double-fist into the center of Bofur’s chest.

His friend convulsed suddenly, sucking in a breath and then releasing it in a low, keening whine. His hope stirring, Nori lifted two fingers to Bofur's temple, asking tentatively, “You in there, mate?”

“Unhh...”

“Yeh,” Nori whispered in relief as Bofur twitched slightly, “there you are.” He carefully slipped his arms beneath Bofur’s, hauling him up to lean on his shoulder.

 _Mahal, thank you,_ Nori thought, swallowing around the lump in his throat as he walked Bofur toward the tents. _It’s goin’ to be bad later on, I know, but...thanks for this moment here._

He handed Bofur to Óin soon enough, who whisked him into the same tent as Dwalin.

“Nori, there you are!” Dori cried in relief, hurrying forward and grasping Nori’s shoulder. “Really, you should rest now—”

“My two best friends are in this tent bein’ treated for their injuries,” Nori said quietly, defying his brother in a respectful tone for the first time in his life. “Until they can walk about for a longer time than I have today, that’s where I’ll be.”

Dori sighed, but again made no attempt to impede him. Nori quirked a corner of his mouth in a half-smile and then ducked beneath the tent flap.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ...So Bofur becomes even sillier, smiley-er, and unsurprisingly even more ready to enjoy the rest of his life. Dwalin gets an artificial leg to replace his flesh-and-bone one. The new one's made of mithril so he can kick any raw recruits who give him cheek XD 
> 
> A compassionate, happy ending, huzzah!


End file.
